


Late Feelings, Late Nights

by snacc_noir



Category: Miraculous Ladybug
Genre: (only a dose of angst dw), Angst with a Happy Ending, F/M, Identity Reveal, Reverse Crush (Miraculous Ladybug), They’re not too late just wait for the ending
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-04-05
Updated: 2020-05-02
Packaged: 2021-02-28 23:55:26
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 1,926
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23485663
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/snacc_noir/pseuds/snacc_noir
Summary: Adrien's fallen for Marinette. Ladybug's fallen for Chat.They're too late.
Relationships: Adrien Agreste | Chat Noir/Marinette Dupain-Cheng | Ladybug
Comments: 10
Kudos: 264





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> this accidentally happened on [ tumblr ](https://snacc-noir.tumblr.com/) and i got carried away (but at least it's not a dumb reveal this time)

Adrien is having a day and a _half_.

His friend, his good, very good, very special and wonderful and oblivious and talented friend, circulates the cafeteria as student rep to collect classmates ideas and requests.

Marinette is wonderful.

She’s great. She’s amazing.

She’s his _friend_.

And only his friend.

No longer does he cause a seizure by touching her shoulder, nor does she form her words together like an accident in a bakery, and no longer can he relish in the pink puddle she becomes just by a few compliments or snide remarks from him.

He _loathes_ it.

“Thanks Adrien!” is an expected response after someone regards the spectacularity of your hand-crafted dress. But from Marinette, he expects a little more composure-crumbling when he runs his fingers with the hem.

“That’s so kind of you!” being punctuated by a giggle (that lately makes his heart flutter) is respected, albeit odd after someone pours heart-eyes into yours while you’re slow dancing at Chloé’s birthday gathering and says “You’re beautiful” lowly - but what does Adrien know?

Yet it’s, “I love you, too! You’re such a good friend to me, Adrien,” that smashes his face in like a charging steam train; a very rude steam train of the karma express. Seconds after he practically pours his feelings to her on the bridge, she tosses them to the body of water, shattering his insides before his ice cream smacks the floor.

“Any changes in the school you want me to bring to Miss Bustier, Adrien?”

Her voice causes him to finch. She’s real and she’s right in front of him and - bonus - not breaking his heart right now. Nino nudges his shoulder.

“Oh! Uh, me? I- yeah. I mean, no. No I don’t, sorry. Thank you, Marinette.” And simply because he can’t help it, “You look nice today, by the way.”

And then she smiles.

Oh, _how she smiles_.

Her cheeks rise and her eyes close and her lips, so soft and pink, stretch.

And then she’s gone.

“You’re hopeless, dude.”

He saves his glare, letting his dignity fumble.

“I know.”

Adrien picks at his lunch, mentally adding to the tally of “Flirting with Marinette gone wrong” (today) as Nino mutters something about being too late…

* * *

Marinette hasn’t seen anyone so oblivious as Chat Noir.

Sure, Adrien was a hoot back when she was exhaustingly in love with him, even saying things like “You’re such a good friend” when she practically confessed to him (how socially inept do you have to be to pull that off?), but Chat—

Loveable Chat - Chat, who steps in the way of attacks for her sake, brings her flowers (well, used to) to their patrols, sings terrible sonnets to her.

Chat, who seemingly _used_ to be in love with her as Ladybug.

Past-tense.

And now it’s her love that’s _in_ tense.

She is so, so dumb.

“Evening, M’lady!”

It hurts. Almost seems like the endearing term is out of pity, most days.

But Ladybug refuses to dwell on her feelings. She used to never see Chat that way, so how hard can it be losing the feelings? Besides, it seems every time she tries to verbalise any of her emotions to him, they’re conveniently intruded - almost like it’s fate she never gets it off her chest.

“I got us hot chocolates!”

He’s backlit by the city’s illume, the glow barely reaching half his smile as he offers the beverage. Chat Noir flops on the roof with her.

Yeah, no. She’s not getting over _that_.

Maybe… Maybe later. Maybe she can convince herself this whole ‘crushing on Chat’ thing is just something in her head, _later_ \- that it’s some figment to replace the hole of Adrien.

(Okay, so she _may_ have liked them the same day once before getting over Adrien, but still.)

She greets Chat in the same bubbly manner as always. The drink fills her mouth warmly. They banter as usual, but it’s not the same. These cool nights beside each other aren’t the same.

Because she’s caught feelings, and Chat’s lost his.

But she’s Ladybug! She’s a superhero. She can get over it. They’re destined not to be together anyway - they don’t even know each other’s _identities_. It-

It doesn’t matter.

She’s okay.

She’s stupid, yeah, but she’s okay.

Marinette’s dwelling on these things, later, as she’s promised herself - that night on her balcony and only seconds after departing her partner’s presence.

“It’s stupid, Tikki,” she says over. “I’m so stupid. I’m so _late_.”

The moon laughs at her, dusting her figure in light for the hazed-over city. She’s hopeless.

She’s—

She’s paused. Her heart trips over itself when a faraway silhouette moves.

Tikki vanishes, Marinette’s blood runs ice,

And Chat Noir drops on her railing.


	2. Chapter 2

“Chat Noir?”

Her mouth falls with her breath. Marinette can’t speak, not properly, not when the man who won’t fleet her thoughts is material and touchable and crouching on the bar before her.

When he hears the name, a rhythmic thump in his ears begins to tail it. His heart distinctively erratics.

Why did he come? What is he doing? What was he thinking?

Her.

He was thinking about her.

Marinette loved Chat Noir once upon a time, right? Bless and curse Plagg for slipping that out before his meet-up with Ladybug. It was all that poisoned him the rest of the evening - the night, where he should be heading home.

And then she was _there_.

An elegant stature catching his eye like a professional fielder; that singular accessory to the Parisian night scape that completes the look; the piece he couldn’t pry sight from.

So now he finds himself _there_.

And he finds himself _speechless_.

He can’t think, blink, flinch. He’s not Adrien and the realisation cuts him deep. He’s a superhero. A superhero on the civilian’s roof he’s friend-zoned and got her dad akumatised over - the one who maybe, with a fleeting hope maybe, still is in love with him

With _Chat_.

“What are you- Why are you here?”

There’s a stiffness to his shoulders, and a shade of mortification begins to swell in his gut as he tries to read what degree of unwelcome he’s supposed to feel.

“I—“ he swallows, “—I saw you out here. It’s quite late. I wanted to see if you’re doing okay?”

“Me? Yeah! I’m gruely trate! I mean, I’m truely great! Thanks!” She follows with a squeak, and his heart lurches; he hasn’t heard that sound since he was Adrien and she was old-Marinette.

Then, she smacks her face, cursing herself beneath breaths. Her smile is tight and scared when meeting him again.

“You’re not great, are you?”

“Horrible.” Marinette flops between him and the hanging basket of pink flowers. Blue orbs struck by the moon’s glow peer above crossed arms. “What about you?”

“About the same.”

_‘I’m in love with you and can’t do anything about it.’_

His throat tightens. He doesn’t say what he wishes. “What’s happened? Anything you wanna talk about?”

‘ _I’m in love with you.’_

But Marinette can’t say that. She already has said it - stupidly, as a lie, and that turned to a needless _disaster_.

It’s not a lie anymore. And that’s exactly why she can’t blurt it this time.

“Oh, just things, you know. Life and all.” She musters some bravery, or idiocy, at the time she certainly feels it’s both. “I finally got over Adrien, so there’s that.”

Whatever reaction she expects from Chat, short-circuiting off the railing and appearing back just as quickly, claws amidst a duel with the bar and eyes rounded, is _not_ it.

“A-Adrien? The model?”

“Yeah.” She almost shivers at the imaginary wind. “He’s my good friend. We go to school together.”

“Adrien? Right, right. Yeah. Gabriel’s son.” Chat looks down. “You loved him?”

“Yeah.” He takes a breath like he’s in labour. “You seem a bit off. What’s it to you?”

She’s nervous. She’s stern but she’s nervous and as long as she gives the moon all her attention she’s good. No matter what Chat says, whatever that be—whatever that _possibly_ could be (does he know Adrien personally? Does he think she’s lying? What about her confession to him? She scolds her mind-race to quiet)—Marinette will take it cooly.

It’s fine.

“Well I just thought,”

She’s absolutely fine.

“you could still be in love with me?”

She’s absolutely _not_ fine.

‘ _Paging Hopeless Marinette Dupain-Cheng. Your crush wants you as a civilian to still love him and results in the worst timing to fall unconscious. So don’t._ ’

She mentally recalls her pulse in her ear a few times before struggling the composure to make an expression (it’s a start).

And Chat, meanwhile, _has messed up_.

He finds out not only has she loved Chat but she’s loved _Adrien_ , and the time he discovers this he’s finally in love with _her_ and she’s likely _not_ now and _that’s what comes from his mouth._

“Uh, sorry! Sorry! That’s a bit weird and I—“

“ _I’m in love with you_!”

His heart hammers and drills and explodes.

“I’m in love with you, Chat.”

The night looms as an audience and Chat feels his chest constrict.

She looks broken. He _feels_ broken.

They’re both weak, idignant messes.

“I’m- I’m in love with you, Marinette.”

But what now.

What now. _What now._

They’re not the right people for the moment.

“I’m over Ladybug.”

“I’m over Adrien.”

Them.

Marinette should be her right now.

Chat should be him right now.

_But they’re not. And they’re lost._

The names are another reminder of how they’re heartbreakingly late. But for once, they’ve lined their timings.

It’s nothing else that speaks to air that drags Marinette’s body to his and the influx of emotions that brush Chat’s lips on hers. They’re a pair without delicacy, without a hand hold, without hesitation: it’s a sad kiss; it’s pain; it’s the feelings of piercing love that hurts.

_It hurts_.

Next thing Marinette understands is the moisture travelling her cheeks.

Chat’s got her. They’re warm in each other’s hold, yet a chill of isolation travels them. They’re breaths are close and tears even closer. It’s everything that’s going on that confuses her and her mouth.

“Every minute I spend with you hurts because you used to love me.”

The words rush.

“You can never pick up when I’m flirting with you at school.”

_And rush and rush and rush_.

“We can’t even work because of our superhero duties—“

“I feel so hopeless chasing you.”

The breathy sounds littering from their mouths linger in the inch of distance, reminding both their ears what the other has blurted in time with them. It’s cackling tension in the seconds absorbing the slow, epiphany silence.

They’re stupid, really.

They jolt off each other, mouths ajar and moonlight dressing them,

And then,

Splendidly,

“ _ **Adrien**_?”

“ _ **Ladybug**_?”

In tandem, they implode. Feelings and thoughts and realisations and connections and more feelings and pain and _wait what?_ s enrapture them like a targeting akuma.

It’s a different face suddenly looking back at her and there’s a mask on the girl he’s staring with.

“You’re—“

“You—“

“You once—“

“That means—“

They go on. But the horror melts by the embers if identical smiles fiercely taking their expressions over.

Oh.

_Oh_.

They really, really are stupid.

“Adrien,” falling from the stretched lips pulls tendons at his most vital organ.

While, “Ladybug,” comes out so soft and breathy tears ink her lashes once more.

It’s-

It’s wonderful, honestly.

Because they know. Both of them. All four of them - whatever. _Everything_.

They finally know.

_They’ve finally found each other_.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> lol they're so dramatic


End file.
